


Demon's Indulgence

by andrhars



Series: Incompetent Incubus [1]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Incubus!Sheik, Link sees something he likes, M/M, Praise Kink, Sheik tries his best, disaster!Sheik as usual, shameless smut but still pretty silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 10:07:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20580752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andrhars/pseuds/andrhars
Summary: It's a paltry night at the club. What else is an incubus to do when the perfect target presents itself?





	Demon's Indulgence

He'd never grow tired of it, this feeling.   
  
The bass thumping rhythmically, so deep and hard he'd feel it in his bones for hours afterwards, the lights flashing brilliantly in time with the beat, his ears filled with the electronic music and the voices of hundreds of individuals crammed into a too-small locale. The smell booze and sweat, of bodies in close proximity, the unnoticed pheromones inducing one's inhibitions to be lowered. The sultry, oppressive heat encouraging the shedding of layers, exposing as much skin as possible, to rub against others in search of delightful friction. The taste of someone else on his tongue, the pleasant buzzing in his head, a mix of the drinks and endorphins filling him.  
  
Sheik let himself glide across the dance floor, swept up by the sweaty, writhing sea of bodies moving to the pulsing rhythm. It was hot and dark, lasers cutting through the smoky air. Sultry looks met his, lascivious smiles promised filthy things as hands explored where they liked, rubbing and grabbing whatever they could reach. Hot breaths ghosting across lips meeting in the dark, whispering filthy words into willing ears.  
  
There was only one rule, unspoken but understood by anyone who set foot in this place: do not kiss and tell. Everyone was here for one reason, to not have to go home alone. To feel the heat of someone else against you, to have something the cold world outside did not offer.  
  
Sheik was home, and this was his people.  
  
Licking his lips, he let his eyes roam the veritable tide of bodies around him, searching for...hm...ah, yes. Perfect.  
  
The man was dancing, sensually grinding against anyone who came near, switching partners every few seconds, his shirt open and exposing a body made for sin, skin rippling with muscles as he took another young man into his arms, hands roaming his partner's body, squeezing his ass appreciatively.  
  
Sheik waited until their eyes met across a small gulf of empty dance floor and moved closer. He swayed his hips to the beat of the music, making sure the other man's eyes was on him and him alone, letting his body do the talking, conveying his want. The man's eyes were dark with lust, his arms open as Sheik came close, letting them rest on Sheik's hips as they began moving to the music.  
  
Sheik turned in his almost-embrace, grinding his ass against the guy's crotch, feeling the rock-hard excitement in his pants. Almost too good to be true. The man's hands slipped under Sheik's shirt, warm fingertips exploring his skin.  
  
Sheik kept it going for a delightfully long time, dancing and gyrating with the man for long, agonising moments before turning back to face him, letting his red eyes meet the man's green with a mischievous spark, standing on his tip toes, and whispering into his ear:  
  
"I like your pants. They'd look good on my bedroom floor."  
  
The man's grip on his hips slackened, and he drew back, giving Sheik a look of confusion, the lustful haze in his eyes clearing instantly. He let go, stepping back.  
  
"Uh...no thanks," he said, getting swept up in another throng of writhing bodies, leaving Sheik standing there, feeling like an idiot.  
  
"Son of a bitch," Sheik hissed, elbowing his way off the dance floor. "All that work for nothing..." Every time it was the same—hook them in with his pretty face, his swaying hips, his eyes…and then he opened his fucking mouth and ruined it all.   
  
He needed a fucking drink. He forgot the step off the slightly raised floor, nearly falling flat on his face, and made his way to the bar.  
  
He intended to order himself something nice to heal his bruised ego (like a pitcher of mojito) when he happened to spot someone with...potential.  
  
The man was in his early thirties, from the looks of him, dressed conservatively in shirt and slacks. Unfitting, considering the sort of place this was. A look of quiet desperation was on his face as he nursed his drink (a sad-looking bottle of beer), looking longingly at the dance floor...or, rather, the people on it. Sheik felt a smile coming to his face. Oh, this was almost too easy.  
  
Just in case, though...  
  
He sidled up to the man, making sure he spotted Sheik coming from a distance, putting on a smile that bordered on lascivious. Wouldn't do to scare him away. The man's eyes met Sheik's, and the way his face practically lit up with excitement was adorable—as was the way his hands shook from nerves.  
  
Cute.  
  
"Hey there," he said, stepping close enough for his shoulder to bump against the man's, letting a bit of his aura leak. Just enough to ensure he was interested. "You're looking a little lonely. First time here?"  
  
"Oh...uh...yeah. Obvious, huh?" the man said, grinning weakly, fiddling with his beer, nails scratching at the label. "Um...can I buy you a drink?"  
  
"That would be nice," Sheik said, stepping until his chest was pressing up against his arm. He felt the man relaxing under his influence, enthralled. "But I have something else in mind..."  
  
"O-Oh?" the man said, his face breaking into sweat, cheeks growing red.   
  
Adorable. Sheik could practically smell the excitement coming off him in waves, which in turn woke his own, a heat that began to grow in the pit of his belly, turning into a need...   
  
"What's th-that, then?" A hand was hesitatingly hovering over Sheik's hip, almost afraid to touch.  
  
"Mmm, not here," Sheik hummed, linking his arm with the man's, slowly but firmly guiding him towards the back of the club, where the toilets were. "Come..."  
  
"Are we...I mean...do you...want to...?" the man babbled, excited and confused about what was happening. Had probably never been to a club like this before, never met someone like Sheik before. Just as well, really, it suited Sheik just fine. Made it easier, made them more susceptible to his gifts.  
  
Whatever confusion was still in him, it evaporated by the time they were in a locked stall and Sheik was on his knees, his head between the man's legs, letting his mouth do what it was created for. The man whimpered and moaned, his hands on Sheik's head, fingers gripping and pulling at his hair. Sheik moaned as well, enjoying himself immensely. The taste, the smell, the sound of debauchery happening in the other stalls around them...he could not imagine anything better.  
  
He was painfully hard, but all he could focus on right now was the man in front of him. He reached up and grabbed his ass cheeks, squeezing and eliciting a cute little yelp, mentally mapping his current lover's body with slow, sensual touches, curiously exploring whatever he could reach. He was in surprisingly good shape, all hard lines and firm muscle, hidden beneath the loose shirt and shapeless slacks.  
  
It was a pity the man didn't last very long. Sheik felt his movements growing stiffer as he approached his climax, letting out deeper grunts as the hair pulling grew more frantic, more painful. Sheik loved it, drawing the moment out until the man was practically crying, begging for release. Sheik allowed it, let the warm, salty and familiar taste fill his mouth, swallowing with a delighted keen. His body absorbed the man's energy immediately, a warmth filling him from top to toe.  
  
The man sank exhaustedly down to sit on the toilet, whimpering as Sheik licked him clean before tucking him back into his underwear. Sheik, feeling revitalised, grinned and leaned up, kissing the man's lips.  
  
"Thanks, lover," he murmured. "See you later."  
  
"Wait!"  
  
The man's yelp of an exclamation had Sheik pause as he went to unlock the stall. "Hm?"  
  
"Wh-What's your name? Can I have your number?" The man was looking up at him in that post-orgasmic haze of pleasure, where everything was it should be, and nothing could go wrong. It was only natural that he'd ask. As nice as it would be with a regular source, Sheik couldn't risk it, though.  
  
"Sorry, I don't do regulars," he said, unlocking the stall. "Maybe some other time."  
  
"Wait, no, please—"  
  
Sheik closed the stall door behind him. The guy would need a few moments to compose himself and for the haze to lift. After a cursory examination of himself in the mirror—eye shadow had smudged a bit, his hair ruffled from the pulling, but otherwise all right—he left the bathrooms, emerging back into the club, feeling a lot more energetic than before.   
  
Everything was brighter, louder, clearer. The need was still in the pit of his stomach, and his own excitement had yet to die down. Still unsatisfied. Another trip to the toilet, and he'd be full. Another light snack, perhaps. Then he could do something about himself, unless he could find someone to alleviate his itch.  
  
He made it to the bar, wanting something to drink. Before he could catch the bartender's attention, though, there was someone standing next to him.  
  
"Well, he didn't appear to be a gentleman," the newcomer said huskily, leaning close to speak quietly into Sheik's ear. "Look at you, all pent up."  
  
"Wha-?" Sheik said, turning to look at the speaker. A blonde man with the brightest, blue eyes he had seen, and a face sculpted by the gods, was smiling at him.  
  
"I saw you, going into the bathroom with him," the man said, his hand touching Sheik's shoulder gently. His grip was strong, however, but infinitely careful. "You came back quickly, meaning only he had his turn, I'm guessing. That's a shame—if I had a chance, you'd be a mess by the time you walked out." He squeezed Sheik's shoulder carefully once more before letting his hand glide down Sheik's arm, fingers exploring the curves and lines, each touch setting off sparks along Sheik's skin where his t-shirt's sleeve ended.  
  
"O-Oh, is that s-so?" Sheik said, clearing his throat. Where did this one come from? And why was he so...keen? It was usually Sheik who had to approach his targets, not the other way around. And why did it feel so good to be touched? Was he really that pent up?  
  
"Oh yes," the man said, stepping closer so Sheik's back was pressed up against his chest, rubbing Sheik's arms with his hands, which kept setting off fires on Sheik's skin as they explored. "The things I would do to you if I had you in one of those stalls..."  
  
His voice was deep, but still so audible over the drone of the music, Sheik heard it perfectly. The vibrations of his growl in Sheik's ears had him weak at the knees. His words kept flowing, describing what he'd do...and it even had Sheik blushing at the sheer filthiness of it. He barely even noticed that the man's hands were gone from his arms, and had begun charting his belly instead, straying dangerously close to his waist, but staying above it.  
  
"...and only then would you be allowed to come," he finished, pressing a little kiss to the lobe of Sheik's ear, which had him shivering with need. "Would you like that? To be brought to the edge over and over, just to the edge. Imagine how it'd feel, when you finally jump over..."  
  
"I...er..."  
  
"I promise you," he growled, nipping at the lobe, "you won't regret it."  
  
Sheik wasn't sure what had happened. One moment he was happy about his small meal for the night, and now...now he found himself being the seduced one. By a human, no less. Whatever it was the man did, he soon found himself obediently following the stranger into the same bathroom as before, everything else around him shrouded in the fog of his need.  
  
He barely realised they were back in a stall—the same one, even—before he heard the lock clicking into place, and then the man was on him. His mouth was seized, lips against his for a moment before a tongue asked for entrance, which he granted. His back was pressed against the stall wall, which shook under the impact, the stranger's hands finding their way under his t-shirt and roaming wherever they could. Sheik whimpered under the assault, senses going into overdrive, trying to take it all in. The man's taste and smell, the sensation of his tongue rubbing against Sheik's and exploring mouth, the fingers pinching Sheik's nipple just right. He tried to touch the man too, but his hands were batted away.  
  
"No," the man said after drawing back, growling. "This is all about you. Just lean back and enjoy."  
  
"I...want to touch," Sheik replied, panting, his breath stolen away. "Please..."  
  
The man paused, then grinned. "Then go ahead," he said, stepping closer until their chests were pressed together. His hands found Sheik's ass and squeezed, eliciting a whimper. "Hope you weren't planning on sitting down tomorrow."  
  
Sheik didn't care. He was too busy finding out what was beneath the man's clothes, behind his zipper. Big. Incredible. Sheik's mouth was aching to get to work, but the man had already claimed his lips once more, drawing his tongue into an absolutely filthy duel, sloppy and wonderful. He caught Sheik's tongue between his lips and sucked lightly, and that nearly made Sheik come in his pants right then and there.  
  
"You're so fucking cute," the man growled, kissing and biting Sheik's neck, nipping at whatever skin he could reach. "Too good for this fucking bathroom, but I can't wait."  
  
Wanting some semblance of control, Sheik growled back, "Then fucking take me."  
  
"Famous last words," the man growled, yanking Sheik's t-shirt over his head and dumping it on the floor, and then beginning to work on Sheik's belt and fly. Sheik returned the favour, divesting the man of his own clothes, realising that whatever this bastard did for a living, it left him with a chiselled physique worthy of ancient statues.  
  
Compared to him, Sheik must have looked pathetic. Slim and short, with defined muscles but not a lot of mass. The man didn't seem to mind, though, leaning down to bite and suck one of his nipples, which set him whimpering again, weak at the knees and barely able to stand up. Before he knew it, he was mostly naked, pants and underwear at his ankles and was being pushed up against the wall with the man at his back.  
  
"Last chance," the man growled, his breath ghost over Sheik's ear. "Tell me to stop."  
  
"If you stop now, I'll kill you," Sheik replied, almost screaming when the man's hand found Sheik's erection, pumping it lightly as the other hand busied itself exploring between Sheik's cheeks, prodding at his entrance. It had been so long since he'd been filled, but his body remembered the sensation, reacting appropriately, relaxing. "You don't need to—"he tried to explain, but his almost convulsed as one finger slipped inside. "Just put it in!" he shouted.  
  
"I'll put it in when I feel like it," the man growled, slapping Sheik's hands away when he tried to reach down. "Hands on the wall," he snarled. "There's a good boy." He rewarded Sheik with a harsh bite on the shoulder. "Now just relax..."  
  
The threats to bring Sheik to the edge over and over had not been empty. Just being prepared like this was slow, erotic torture, and the bastard knew exactly what he was doing, slowly adding more and more fingers, stretching Sheik's muscle with agonising care. When he felt Sheik was about to come, he stopped moving entirely, waiting until he was calm again before continuing. By the time he withdrew his fingers and positioned himself behind Sheik, Sheik was a sobbing, whimpering mess.  
  
"Ready?" the man asked, not giving Sheik time to answer before pushing forward, spearing him in a single motion that had Sheik screaming silently at the sheer pleasure. The man was big, and stretched him to his limit, but it felt better than anyone else Sheik had ever had.  
  
"So fucking tight, so good, such a good boy, taking it all in," the man said, voice tight as he slowly began to move, in and out, so fucking slow it was like Sheik's head was going to explode as every nerve was set on fire within him. "Go on...make a little sound," he said, pinching Sheik's nipple with a free hand, the other locked around Sheik's hip in an iron grip. "Go on, let the others know you're having a good time."  
  
Overcome by the sheer pleasure he was feeling, Sheik let it out, moaning, whimpering and wailing as the stranger picked up the rhythm, the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin growing louder and louder. How the fuck was a human this good?   
  
His lewd moaning was answered by the others in the stalls around them. Some moaned, others congratulated the stranger on a job well done.  
  
The stranger bit Sheik's neck again, this time hard enough to draw blood, his tongue licking at the wound.  
  
"How's it feel?" he muttered. "Hm? Is this what you wanted? Answer me."  
  
"Y-Yes," Sheik managed to force out.  
  
"Does it feel good?"  
  
"S-So good!"  
  
"Good boy..."  
  
He changed his angle, ramming deeper and harder, rubbing up against the spot that had Sheik's vision blacking out with each thrust, barely able to support himself against the wall with his hands, which he frustratingly wasn't allowed to remove.  
  
He was no kinder when actually fucking Sheik—whenever he felt Sheik tensing up and wailing louder, he backed off, sometimes stopping moving entirely, which had Sheik begging him to continue, to just let him come already.  
  
"I promised you wouldn't walk away unsatisfied," the stranger said, chuckling as he sucked on Sheik's neck during a lull. "Just...trust me, okay? Let me handle everything. Just be the good little slut you are and—"he thrust harshly into Sheik out of nowhere, making him scream—"take it!"  
  
Sheik felt like he was coming apart at the seams—every thrust felt like a cannon blast, shaking him to his very core, setting off his nerves like electricity. He couldn't think, couldn't see, couldn't hear. All he cared about was the stranger's cock inside him, the stranger's hands roaming his body as if committing it to memory, the stranger's teeth on his neck, his shoulders, his ears, the stranger's strong chest pressing against his back, trapping him against the wall. Even in his wildest dreams had he never been fucked this hard, so thoroughly, so good.  
  
A finger probed at his mouth, and he took it in, sucking on it. The stranger's voice rumbled behind him.  
  
"So good...finest ass I've had in years..."  
  
Sheik's face was wet—what from he knew not, sweat, tears, spit, all of the above. He was drooling around the finger in his mouth, biting at it playfully to the amusement of the man ploughing him roughly.  
  
Suddenly, the man grunted, his thrusting growing harder, more desperate.  
  
"Getting close...are you ready?" he growled, biting Sheik's ear. "Are you ready to come, baby? Ready to jump over the edge?"  
  
"Yes," Sheik sobbed. "Yes, please, come, let me come, please, please..."  
  
"Where do you want it? Hm? Where do you want it?"  
  
"I-In me, please...!"  
  
"That's a good slut," the man laughed, grunting more and more. "Here...it...comes!"  
  
Sheik cried out loudly as the man came inside him, a flood of warmth filling his nether, setting his already abused, tingling nerves on fire and causing his own release. His throat felt raw as he felt his cock pulse harshly, painting the wall with his essence, all the while absorbing what the man had let out inside him, his heart beating so hard it felt like it was about to explode out of his chest.  
  
He lost track of where he was, possibly even blacked out.  
  
The next thing Sheik knew, he was alone in the stall, sitting on the toilet and feeling so thoroughly fucked he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to move again. His limbs were heavy as lead, every muscle in his body so utterly relaxed he was sure he'd turn into a liquid if he wanted to.  
  
He'd been redressed, his face wiped clean (and smudging his eyeshadow even further, damn it), and if it weren't for how sore he was (and how...wet, he felt), he would've believed he'd imagined it all.  
  
Whoever that human had been, he was a fucking monster. Their coupling had released more energy into Sheik than he'd had in one serving since...ever! Certainly more than any other he'd had since coming to this world.  
  
He needed a few minutes to recover, his head still hazy, after which he stood up and carefully peeked out of the bathroom stall. There were still noises of copulation echoing against the tiled walls, but right now it didn't wake Sheik's urges. He had finally found someone who'd fed him full.  
  
He stumbled out of the bathroom, out of the club and into the street in a delirious haze, barely aware of what he was doing. He managed to flag down a taxi, shakily telling the driver his address.  
  
Home in his apartment, he barely had the energy to stumble to his bed and pass out, his dreams filled with a tall, blonde stranger with blue eyes, and a body made for sin.  
  



End file.
